


Agent 317

by LaraFaulks



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2018-07-22 14:26:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7442686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaraFaulks/pseuds/LaraFaulks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Winter Soldier's Handler is injured during a mission and accidentally reveals too much about his past while confined in a safe house together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Russia 1986

Agent 317 crouched, hidden behind the burned-out shell of an old van. Bullets rained over her head and an explosion to her left gave her the opportunity to throw herself out from cover and into the safety of an adjacent alley across the street. Smoke plumed from the exploded bomb and spread out across the ground, impairing her vision. She flicked down the goggles perched on her head, activating heat vision. The heat radiating from the fire blocked a section of the area, but she could still make out three gunmen walking down the road towards her position. 

The roar of a motorcycle engine cut through the air and she cursed under her breath.  
“About time,” she removed one of the guns from the holster, waiting for the seemingly endless spray of bullets to stop. She flicked her arm out, firing blindly twice and taking down two of the figures. They dropped to the floor and the third tried to cut her off, moving around the other side of the building. Before he could turn the corner she was waiting, snapping her hand out to connect with his throat and kicking him in the stomach. She holstered the gun and grabbed his head with two hands, cracking it into the wall beside her and letting him drop like lead to the floor. 

The engine grew louder and she looked around as the motorbike pulled up at the alleyway entrance. She lifted her goggles.  
“Do you have the key?” the Asset asked in Russian, his voice muffled by the mask over his face.  
“Not yet,” she replied, reaching down to search inside the military vest of the body by her feet. “Two more, in the alley,” she ran to meet the Asset as he stepped off the bike, propping it onto the stand. She dashed to the first body, skidding onto the ground next to it and checking once more. Nothing.  
“We need to evacuate,” the Asset stated, standing still, watching her as she moved to the third body.  
“One minute,” she snapped, finding nothing in the third body’s pockets. “It has to be here…” Before she could stand the doors of the abandoned building beside her burst open. The first bullet caught her in the thigh, sending her skidding to the side; the second grazed her shoulder as she rolled. By the time the third shot rang out, the arm of the gunman had been ripped clean off. He screamed in agony before the crunch of metal on bone silenced him. Agent 317 looked up to see the Asset drop the limb next to its owner’s body. He crouched down, pulling a silver key from his inside pocket.  
“Good work Soldier,” she groaned in English, rolling onto her back, her hand at her thigh. He didn’t reply, he just dragged her to her feet, and pulled her with him towards the motorbike. She looked around at the destruction around her. The mission file had said abandoned, one guard, one scout, not the carnage that she had found upon arrival. 

They were two minutes out of the town when the Land Rover appeared behind them. The passenger leaned out of the window with a semi-automatic rifle and the Asset swerved severely to the right to avoid the wave of bullets. Agent 317 winced as she tensed her legs to keep balance. The Asset moved his flesh arm behind, firing at the vehicle, but missing repeatedly.  
“I got this,” she said, pulling her gun out. She tried to turn but the pain of the wound on her shoulder stopped her motion. The motorbike swerved again and she shouted out in pain. “Okay, okay,” she said, looking down at her legs. Slower than her normal movements she lifted the injured leg in front of her, up around the Asset’s waist, resting her foot on the seat in front of him. Instinctively, he moved his metal hand to her calf, gripping her and keeping her in place, the other hand tight on the handlebar. She took a deep breath and laid back, her spine resting against the seat, her head hovering above the back wheel. Watching upside-down she pulled her gun with her good arm and fired three shots, taking out the two front tyres. The Land Rover veered off into the forest next to them, crunching into two trees before it rolled down the bank. Agent 317 winced as the Asset released her foot when she sat up and she returned it to the side of the bike.  
“Safe House, three miles. We can return to base tomorrow, you need medical treatment,” despite her being the one in charge, she didn’t argue with him, feeling her weight fall against him as he took a sharp right and continued down a dirt track. 

Inside the sparse wooden hut, the Asset set her down on the couch after helping her off the bike and moved to light a fire in the prepared grate. He pulled the restricting mask from his face and set it down on the table. Agent 317 pulled the heavy black jacket off her good shoulder before beginning to slide it off the injured one.  
“Motherfucker,” she swore in English, biting her lip. The Asset looked round briefly before returning to his task and she dropped the jacket on the floor, looking at her bloodied arm. “It’s going to need stitches,” she switched back to Russian.  
“And the leg?” he asked, standing up and moving towards her.  
“I think it went straight through,” she said, pulling her hand away from the back of her thigh covered in crimson. He pulled out his knife with his flesh hand, and the sudden movement made her flinch. He sliced through the combat fabric before dropping the knife and tearing. She cried out as the material pulled away from the wound and he tugged the trouser leg off, casting it down with her jacket.  
“Stay here,” he said, examining it closely before standing and moving towards the kitchen.  
“How good is your medical training?” she said in English, suddenly feeling self-conscious with one leg of her trouser almost completely gone. He returned, holding a towel and medical kit in one hand, a bottle of vodka clasped in the other.

He knelt down beside the sofa, dabbing the towel at the wound, causing her to wince again. He began to open the bottle but she stopped him.  
“Here, first,” she reached out and took it from him, downing two large mouthfuls. She handed it back and the corners of his mouth almost turned up into a smirk.  
“Why do you talk to me in English?” he asked, looking back up to her. He rarely held eye contact and it made her uncomfortable. “Am I English?” Her head swam with the pain in her leg and shoulder, the intensity of his gaze and the burn of the vodka on her throat.  
“American,” she replied before she could stop herself. When she became one of his Handlers they gave her a brief glance at his file. The secrecy of his past never sat well, neither did the wiping. She argued repeatedly that he would become a stronger agent if he could retain memories of his previous missions, but in their mind the danger outweighed the strengths and she was overruled before it got any higher than her immediate superior.  
“American?” he asked, sitting back on his feet from his kneeling position.  
“Yes, that’s all I know,” she looked over at the crackling fire in the corner. A sharp pain drew her attention back as he emptied some of the bottle onto her leg. His metal hand moved to her thigh and the cold contact made her jump. He squeezed. Hard.  
“What else?”  
“Nothing,” she said through gritted teeth. She shouted out, before regaining composure as his grip lessened. “I am in charge of this mission Soldier, continue your job,” she snapped in Russian, letting her head fall back against the pillow. He nodded, unable to ignore her command, and reached for the medical kit.

Two hours later Agent 317 jumped awake, she must have passed out while he tended to the other wounds. She looked at her bare shoulder and leg. The stitching was neat and clean. A glint of metal caught her eye and she looked up to see him sat in the chair opposite, watching her closely. She sat up, her hand reaching for the tight bun it was held in, pulling it out and letting long hair fall about her shoulders. She saw the vodka bottle still beside the couch and took another swig.  
“I’m as much of a Prisoner as you are,” she said, breaking the silence. “I’m sorry for what they do to you.” She wasn’t sure exactly why she was apologizing but she felt nothing but guilt as she looked at him sat in front of her.  
“Do you remember everything?”  
“Yes,” she replied. “That I know of.”  
“Then you are nothing like me,” he said, slumping slightly in his seat, strands of hair falling into his face.  
“I ignored their commands once. Worst mistake of my life,” her posture straightened. “It is a blessing you don’t remember.” With that she disappeared into the bathroom. When she emerged a few minutes later she had replaced the bloodied tank top with a loose cotton shirt several sizes too big from a spare equipment pack left for the safe house and removed her half-destroyed pants, leaving on her cotton undershorts. His eyes scanned her.  
“That’s not the first time I’ve had my hand on your leg,” he said, lifting his chin. “Is it?”  
“No,” she replied, stopping and looking at him. “You remember?”  
“I remember how your skin felt under my fingertips,” he said, looking at the palm of his hand. She remembered the night; it had been several years ago in Berlin. A high-profile assassination had cost them one of her closest friends in the organization and she had drunkenly propelled herself towards the Soldier. It was only the second time she’d been appointed his Handler and it was the most unprofessional thing she’d done in her life. His grip on her had been strong and just as the confusion started to subside and he began to return the kiss, gunshots in the hotel lobby had interrupted them. And that had been the end of it.

She walked towards him, her gaze never leaving his. Usually she kept conversation to a minimum. The other Handlers usually forbade him from talking, but the company kept her sane. Some of their missions had been weeks long and without even brief conversation she would have been driven to insanity. As she came within reach he put his hand out and touched her thigh again, just above the gunshot wound. She shivered as his metal hand reached for the other leg. He looked at her as if ready to pull away.  
“Don’t,” she said, enjoying the contact.  
“What is your name?” he asked, switching back to English.  
“Ava,” she said. It had been so long since she’d used her real name. Hydra prided itself in removing identities and the burden they carried, but she missed the sound it made on her tongue when she spoke it.  
“Ava,” he repeated, his metal hand sliding up to her hip and then taking her hand in his. Before she could register the move he was on his feet, his lips hard against hers. His stubble burned her cheeks but she enjoyed the sensation, moaning into his mouth as his flesh arm locked around her back, pulling her close. She couldn’t remember the last time she had this much human contact. She felt a surge of energy and spun them around, pushing him backwards towards the couch, where he fell heavily. She straddled his lap, returning her lips to his. His human hand tangled in her hair as the metal one slid down her back. She moved her hands down his chest, pulling at the military-issue jacket he wore. Once it was off he cast it aside, but turned his head as she went to kiss him.  
“Who am I?” he asked, both hands sliding to her waist.  
“James,” she breathed, her chest rising and falling quickly. “James Barnes,” recognition flickered behind his eyes but he shook his head.  
“That’s not who I am now,” he said. “Don’t call me that.” His grip tightened and he pulled her hips down, grinding them into the front of his trousers. She groaned at the contact and rolled herself into him, feeling the growing bulge in his trousers through her thin shorts.  
“As you wish, Soldier,” she replied. She leaned forward to kiss him again, but he moved his lips to her neck, biting hard before letting his tongue flick over the area, soothing the ache.  
“Fuck,” she said, letting her head fall back as she rolled her hips again. 

Now it was his turn to groan. His metal arm whirred and his fingers dug into her hip tighter. She cried out, but he didn’t stop, letting his hips buck up into hers. She went for his neck this time, placing open-mouthed kisses against the skin, feeling the roughness of his unshaven skin on her lips. He smelled like blood, and gunpowder, and motorbike oil. The metal hand suddenly released, coming up to grip at her chin. He squeezed again and she flinched as his vice-like grip kept her head steady, her eyes focused on his. His flesh arm moved down to her shorts, dipping beneath the material and brushing against her. She knew she was wet, and he smirked as he pulled two, wet fingers away, glistening in the dim light from the dying fire. He examined them for a moment before lowering his hand back in, roughly grazing her clit on the way to her entrance. Two fingers pushed into her her and a stifled cry came from her mouth. He squeezed harder on her chin and throat and she inhaled sharply. 

He kept the rhythm hard and rough, and every time her eyes slid shut his grip crushed her face slightly more, causing her to open them again. She could feel the pressure building low in her stomach, her breathing grew quicker and the feeling of his fingers in her, along with his intense gaze, watching every expression on her face, was driving her towards the end. Just as she was about to crash over, his metal hand released, and his human arm pulled away. She fell forwards against him, surprised and disappointed. It took her a few moments to recover and her hands moved straight to his belt, flicking it open and unzipping the fly. He lifted his hips for her to tug them down and she did so enough to expose his hardened cock. She went to lower herself onto him but suddenly his metal arm was there, three of the fingers inside of her, whirring as they moved back and forth. Ava cried out again.  
“Oh my God,” she said, letting her head roll forward and her hair fall into her face. He pulled them out quickly and brought her forcefully down, impaling her on his cock. His composure broke and he moaned loudly, letting out a deep breath. Ava moved her hands to his shoulders, steadying herself. She began to roll her hips, lifting and lowering onto him rhythmically. He let his metal arm trail over her stomach while the other bunched into the material of the couch beside him. He lifted his hips to meet hers, faster, harder, until her legs were trembling. He glanced and noticed the stitches had begun to tear on the top of her thigh, crimson trails running down onto the material beneath them. The pain didn’t stop her and she kept meeting his thrusts, her breasts visibly bouncing beneath the material of the shirt. He tore at it with the robotic arm, leaving it fall to the floor in tatters. His mouth moved forward, catching one nipple between his lips and it pushed her over the edge. She saw stars and her eyebrows furrowed as her movements stilled against him. He kept the rhythm, pushing her through the pleasure with quick snaps of his hips.

Once she had caught her breath he resumed his movements, his head falling back, one arm on her hip, the other at her breast. He locked his eyes onto her as he came, pulsing into her, three final rough bucks of his hips until he finished. 

They stayed that way for some time. Her on top of him, their breathing returning to normal, their eyes locked together. She began to step back off him, suddenly noticing the mess her broken stitches had made. The blood was all over his trousers, the couch and was even beginning to trail onto the floor. When she saw the blood she felt fear. If they ever learned about this she would be worse than dead, she had seen what they did to people, what they had already done to her. She stood up and before she could walk away, he pulled her closer, so she was stood between his legs.  
“I want to remember this,” he said. “Ava,” he frowned, his hands holding hers tightly. “Remember it.”  
“I won’t forget,” she replied, stepping back out of his grasp and moving towards the bathroom. He watched her go and took a sharp inhale as he saw the skin on her back. It was badly scarred, burn marks running from her shoulder blades to her hips. A large H was branded in the centre of the scarring and below it the symbol of their cause, the six-legged skull. 

When they arrived at base Agent 317 went through three debriefings before they excused her from duty and sent her to the medical wing to get the stitches checked. She was told that an advanced Agent should never have failed such a simple recover and return mission, especially with the Asset under her care. As punishment she would be travelling to America the following week, training new recruits in their Washington front. The fact the Soldier remained uninjured went in her favor and they promised not to put a black mark against her future missions after her time at the training academy was complete. She thanked her seniors for their leniency, feeling sick as she spoke. 

When she walked down the hall, she heard the screaming. His gut-wrenching cry as everything was torn out of his head. It echoed through the stairwell as she made her way to the medical wing. She walked onto the ward and silence fell over the facility again. She felt a shiver run up her spine.


	2. London 1990

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agent 317 has finished her exile sentence in the Hydra training facility and is returned to active duty.

LONDON 1990

The wheels of the plane screeched as they hit the tarmac. 

The private jet drove straight past the waiting Bentley, banking around at the end of the runway and doubling back to stop beside the car. The stairs slowly descended and two figures appeared. They walked silently to the bottom.  
“This will be good for you,” Alexander Pierce put his hands into the pockets of his expensive suit, and gestured across to the waiting car with his head. “It’s what you wanted isn’t it? Get yourself back into the action, back into the thick of it. It’s where you’re meant to be.” he clapped the Agent on the back, and grinned broadly. The smile didn’t reach his eyes.   
“Glad to be out of the training centre, Sir,” she replied politely, her eyes focused on the car.  
“It’s good to have you back Agent 317,” Alexander shook her hand firmly, struggling to meet her eye. “I need to get going. I have to be in Berlin by four. Roper can debrief you at the safe house. You can meet your partner, a friendly face, I daresay,” he smiled wryly. “Just don’t fuck it up this time. You’re running out of lives.” His eyes darkened.   
“Sir.”  
“Enjoy,” he said, clapping his hands together before turning on heel and heading back onto the jet. 

The car swerved through rush hour traffic, down through central London and out towards the East. Soon enough landmarks and rows of well-kept townhouses were replaced with industrial estates and docklands. Eventually the car pulled into a seemingly deserted warehouse.   
“Roper’s inside,” the driver briefly made eye contact through the rear view mirror, and Ava nodded. She grabbed her rucksack and headed out towards the main door. It began opening before she could reach for the handle.

Gerard Roper was sickly thin, with bushy eyebrows and a bird-like nose. His face, set in an eternal sneer, peered through the gap at her.   
“I expected you earlier,” he snapped. Ava didn’t reply, just made to move through the door, but Roper stood in her way. He drew closer to her and she could smell stale cigarette smoke on his breath.   
“Hail Hydra,” he whispered.   
“Hail Hydra,” she replied softly, the words catching bitterly on her tongue. He stepped back, giving her space to walk through. In the far corner of the spacious warehouse was a table and chairs set underneath a low hanging lamp. In the opposite corner was a private office, dimly lit by a single bulb.   
“Take a seat,” Roper said, ushering her over towards the table. “You’ve had a long flight.” Ava stayed quiet and Roper twitched in agitation at her silence. “Mr. Pierce had nothing but good things to say about you. Despite your record he seems to feel you’re the best for the job.”  
“I’ve always been the best for the job. I made one error, once, and it won’t happen again,” she dropped onto the chair, letting her bag fall to the floor. She crossed her legs, the buckles of her motorcycle boots glinting in the light. Roper smiled.  
“I particularly enjoyed reading about your training methods. They couldn’t be more happy with the work you’ve done in D.C.”  
“They have a good eye for talent, I just led them in the right direction,” she went to continue, but was cut off.   
“I had the pleasure of working with one of your finest success stories on my last mission. Rumlow. He has a certain knack for killing.” Ava didn’t respond to the sound of his name. “I tried my hardest to get him for this one, but Pierce didn’t think it was a good idea to pair you both together. Not so soon after his transfer into field missions.”   
“Probably for the best,” Ava looked around the warehouse absently. “It will take a few years to smooth the arrogance and cockiness out.”   
“Or to enforce it.”  
“Or that,” Ava replied. “So what is the mission? Mr. Pierce gave me nothing on the plane.”  
“I’d rather wait until your partner arrives to discuss that. He’s not due back for a few hours. Out running a recon,” he trailed off. “Get yourself over to the offices opposite, first floor, second on the right. It’s your room for the next week. Get yourself cleaned up and report back here at five.”  
“Sir,” Ava stood.  
“I am terribly excited about working with you finally, Agent 317. It really is a pleasure.” She didn’t believe a word out of his mouth. 

Ava threw a handful of cold water in her face, looking up at the mirror in front of her. Her eyes were lined, and the dark circles underneath them were beginning to grow. Sleep had been hard to find in the week since they announced her return to fieldwork. Pierce’s words echoed in her ears. Running out of lives. She punched the sink.  
“Shit!” she exclaimed, grabbing onto her knuckles and massaging it out. She went back through to the makeshift bedroom. It was an old office. The ceiling tiles were stained with damp and fluorescent tube lighting ran down the middle. There were two single beds, separated by a few feet. A black cargo jacket was laid out on the right hand side, so she took the left. Pierce had given her no hint of who her partner would be. It had been so long since she’d been on the ground, she couldn’t even guess who would they would count as they’re top agents anymore. 

She glanced out the window at the empty car park. It was already starting to get dark outside, and the chill of winter was settling in. After a few minutes she moved over to the other bed, lifting the jacket and checking the pockets for any hint as to the owner. They were all empty, so she moved to the filing cabinet drawers next to the bed. Locked. She returned to her bag, pulling out some clean clothes and dragging them on, grabbing her coat and heading towards the door. She looked around the room once more before walking back towards the hanger.

“Hello?” Ava called out. Roper had disappeared and the hanger was empty. She began walking over to the office. Looking through the dusty window she couldn’t make out anyone inside. “Agent 317 reporting for duty,” she spoke under her breath in Russian, taking another look around the hanger before taking a seat at the table again. She glanced at the clock. 5.05pm. Hydra agents were never late.

At 5.17 her thoughts were interrupted by a gunshot. It sliced through the silence and she jumped to her feet, her hand going straight to the pistol strapped to her thigh. She pulled it out and brought it up, spinning to face the entrance. The roar of an engine, followed by the smashing of metal came from outside and she began running towards the doorway. Exiting out onto the street, she saw Roper running from another industrial building towards the body lying in the middle of the street. He had a cellphone flush to his ear and was barking out orders in German. 

Approaching with caution she saw the body of Martin Hawke. She had worked with him once before. He was forced into Hydra, just as she had been. He was kind. And that was rare. She looked down into his open, staring eyes.  
“He was due back thirty minutes ago,” Roper said, looking down at the body with disgust. “Get him moved inside there,” he pointed to a security booth a few hundred yards away.   
“Did you see who it was?” Ava gasped, kneeling down to roll Martin onto his back.  
“It was your fucking target! He must have been compromised during recon,” Roper said. “Now get the body off the street and in the morning cleanup can take care of it. I’ve already called for a replacement.”  
“Sir,” Ava said, her gaze still focused on Martin. He looked so much older than he had the last time she saw him. She imagined she had aged just as badly.  
“After he’s dealt with, get some sleep,” Roper began walking back towards the building he had exited from. “The Asset will be here in seven hours and I need you on form.” He paused. “I trust you remember the activation codes.”

Ava felt her stomach lurch.


	3. Activation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Winter Soldier has arrived.

Ava looked down at the phone.

She had been summoned into Roper’s quarters just after 1am. Glancing at the shiny mahogany desk she couldn’t help but notice how much nicer this warehouse was compared to the office block and hanger she had been in previously. She sat back in the plush armchair.  
“Agent 317 reporting Sir,” she said sharply. There was a crackle of static before Alexander Pierce’s voice filled the air.  
“Agent,” he began. “We called you in to work with Agent 293 on a double assassination. It was a clean mission, and Agent 293 was gathering reconnaissance on the targets. Open the file on the desk.”

Ava flipped open the manila file and glanced at the two photographs mounted on plain paper. She looked behind them but there was no other information.  
“Edward and Regan Thompson,” Alexander continued. “Those are the names they were using as of yesterday, but I imagine we will be looking at new identities after the leak.”  
“Who are they?”  
“Officially, they’re jewelers. They own a shop in Hatton Garden that has been operating for fifty years. Inherited through their father. Unofficially, they launder money for weapons sales which are being funneled through to British secret services.”   
“High profile targets?”  
“We had eyes on them, but they weren’t on our radar until we received photographs of them attending a private meeting with Howard Stark in Paris two weeks ago. I need them wiped off the map before the end of the week.”  
“Quietly?”  
“I don’t care,” Alexander paused. “They just need to be gone.”  
“And is this a SHIELD mission or Hyd-“  
“Just get it done.” The line fell silent.

Ava looked over at Roper who had been sitting silently in the corner, watching her face carefully as she took the call.   
“I want to run another recon,” she said, leaning forward. “If they killed Ma-“ she stumbled, “Agent 293, then we can’t guarantee they haven’t left the country.” She inwardly cursed herself for her slip. She could tell from the twitch of Roper’s nose that it didn’t go unnoticed.   
“We have had an agent at every airport, every seaport, every way out of this damn country. There’s no way they’ve fled. But they’re going to try,” he said. “How long will a recon take?”  
“A morning, tops,” she replied. “I know the city well, just get me a bike.”  
“The Asset will go with you,” he said.  
“No,” she snapped. “I can do this alone.”  
“He’s in the hanger, waiting, he’s going with you.”  
“It’s a simple recon-“ Ava began.  
“A simple recon that killed an agent far more experienced than you, Agent 317. And it wasn’t a suggestion. It was an order,” Roper stood up sharply.   
“Sir,” Ava softened her tone. “I’m off the radar. Completely. I haven’t been in the field for five years. If I go alone, I can stay in the crowds, unseen, safe, anonymous. If I go in there with the Asset…he’s hardly,” she looked for the word. “Inconspicuous. It’s safer for the mission that I go alone.” Roper eyed her up and down for a second, considering the sense that her statement made and juggling it with his desire to enforce superiority.   
“Very well, but I want him activated before you leave. You will have three hours. If I haven’t heard from you, I’m sending him out.”  
“Yes Sir,” Ava looked out of the warehouse window, and across at the main building, knowing what was waiting inside.  
“Now go back, get some sleep and meet me in the hanger at 6am.” 

At 5.59am, after only about an hour of actual sleep, Ava entered the hanger taking in the large black crate in front of her. She moved towards it, circling it to survey it. It was like a giant, metal coffin. She felt her hand tremble and clenched her fist. Roper was already stood, watching it from a comfortable distance.  
“You know what to do?” Roper asked, noticing her reluctance to approach it.  
“It’s a new design,” she said, moving forward and flipping over a latch on the top to reveal a control panel. “But yes.” She flipped the three switches, pushing a large red button and turning the key that was sat in the lock ready. Stepping back, she wafted away the burst of icy air that shot out towards her. The main panel slid back, and the framework inside began to steam. The mechanisms began whirring and a metal cage began to lift from the crate. 

He was unrecognizable. Lying in state as if dead, his skin almost blue, eyes shut, hair lank against his face. Ava looked back to the control panel and hit another button. Blue fluid ran down tubes that were connected to his forearms and chest, flowing into his body. It only took a few minutes before the colour returned to him. She glanced up, looking at his face, but it was hidden beneath the breathing mask fitted across his mouth. Ava pulled the final lever, which drew the tubes from his veins, and retracted the metal caging that held him in place, leaving him lying still on the flat surface.   
“How long does it ta-“ Roper began to talk but was cut off as the Winter Soldier coughed, lurching forward to a seated position. Ava stepped forward putting her hand across his back to steady him.   
“Approximately five minutes to adjust. Can you bring a chair across please?” Ava said, struggling with the politeness. Roper clearly hadn’t seen the activation before. He couldn’t take his eyes off the man gasping for breath in front of him. It took him a few moments before he nodded and moved to get one of the chairs. 

The Soldier’s breathing began to settle, and he rolled his shoulders, the metal one whirring and humming as it came to life. Ava looked at the silver that glistened in the darkness. She watched the gentle rise and fall of his chest underneath the combat vest, avoiding looking directly at his face. He was a reminder of her unprofessionalism. A reminder of her failure. A reminder of the best experience she’d had since being forced into Hydra twelve years before. In her distraction, she failed to notice as his forearm shot out, his fist hitting her square in the stomach. She flew backwards, skidding across the floor, winded and bruised. Roper dropped the chair and looked at her, then to the Soldier, then back to her. The Asset was swinging his legs down from the platform and getting ready to stand.   
“Get in the office,” Ava said, being spluttering breaths as she rolled onto her knees and began to stand. She was too slow. Another mistake.   
“What is happening?” Roper shouted.  
“LONGING!” Ava shouted loudly in Russian, ignoring the question. The Winter Soldier fixed his eyes on her as she stood. “Rusted,” she continued. He ran for her and she dived out of the way, just missing as he bulldozed through the spot she had been stood in moments before. “Furnace.” 

Ava sprinted towards the table. Her gear was in her rucksack. As she reached the table she shouted out again. “Daybreak”. She heard a scream as the Winter Soldier doubled over, holding his head, before charging at her again. She grabbed the straps of the rucksack and rolled across the floor as he charged into the table. “Seventeen.” A foot landed next to her head and she flipped over in time to block the fist that came towards her. He was stood over her, his eyes fixed on hers. Steel blue and filled with anger and hatred. Ava kicked her foot up, catching behind his knee and dropping him to the ground. She jumped up, sprinting to the other side of the warehouse. “Benign”. She tore at the zip, opening the pack, pulling out her Kevlar vest and swinging it over her head. Anything to protect herself from his attacks. “Nine”. She turned and he was already on top of her. She jumped as his leg kicked out and then dodged one of his fists that came out towards her head. She jabbed back, trying to distract him rather than trying to hurt him. Harming the Asset would not go down well. “Homecoming”. His hands reached out and grabbed her by the straps of the bulletproof vest, lifting her clear off the ground. He threw her back against the wall roughly, his metal hand going to her throat. “One”. His grip tightened. His eyes boring into hers. Ava kicked her feet helplessly, trying to get purchase on the wall behind her. She felt her vision starting to blur at the edges.   
“You.”  
The voice was raspy and low, but Ava recognised it immediately. His grip slackened slightly, doubt beginning to creep in.   
“I know you.” He spoke again, the hatred replaced by confusion. Ava glanced quickly over to the office where Roper was watching, curious, his face almost pressed up against the window. Ava shot her hand out, jabbing the Soldier in the windpipe. His metal hand let go and went to grasp his own throat.  
“Freight car.” Ava said, falling to the ground, her voice cracking. “Forgive me,” she continued quietly. 

The Soldier’s hand dropped to his side, and his posture grew straighter.  
“Soldat?” Ava said, holding her hand up to motion to Roper it was safe for him to exit.  
“Ready to comply.”


	4. Hatton Garden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the Soldier awakened, Agent 317 leaves him behind for a recon mission...

Ava revved the engine on the bike. 

Rain was hammering off her helmet, distorting the view through the visor and the light had been red for what felt like an eternity. As soon as it changed to green, she swerved around the taxi in front of her and across the bridge. It was seven am but Central London was already teeming with commuters and tourists. She hit every set of lights and despite being a five-minute clear drive away, with all of the traffic lights it was almost twenty minutes before she reached Hatton Garden.

She pulled the motorbike up to the curb, and kicked the stand down. She was a couple of streets away from the address Martin had been given. Ava walked round the back of an old tourist pub and looked around, the alley was empty. She jumped onto the large waste bin outside, then across to the first floor awning of the building. From there she shimmied around the side and pulled herself up onto the windowsill of the floor above. She carried on up until the fourth floor and then tugged herself onto the roof.

In the back of her mind was the gnawing reminder that the Winter Soldier was sat waiting where she left him, where she commanded him to stay, in the hanger with Roper watching his every move. 

He remembered her. 

That had never happened before. Five years ago she had run over thirty missions with him. The only glimmer had been when he remembered touching her leg. But in the hanger he had recognised her face, he’d looked into her eyes and seen something. And that was more than enough to have her killed. She shuddered and put the memory aside. Right now, she was back where she belonged. She had hated every moment spent in the training school. It was like a prison, an endless torture and a constant reminder that they owned her and her life was theirs. But this was where she excelled. With no suited man breathing down her neck, no reigns, no cameras, no microphones, just her, alone, a few brief hours where she could pretend she was free. 

She spun around, getting the full view of the surrounding rooftops. From what she could see, there were no surveillance units based up there. Several residential buildings had rooftop gardens, but the rest of them were clear. Looking across, she could see that with the tightly packed streets and buildings, she would be able to make it over without going back to street level, so set about jumping from rooftop to rooftop. There was only a maximum gap of around four feet, but it still felt like flying. A few minutes later she arrived on the roof opposite the building Edward and Regan owned. She ducked down behind a chimney pot, and pulled out a camera from her rucksack. It wasn’t the best angle, but she could make out two armed guards on the top floor. Below that the windows seemed to be clear, but she couldn’t see anything further down. She slid along the roof, keeping low, and swung round to the East, trying to get a better view. 

The new position allowed her a partial view of the street entrance. Two guards were stood outside. It wasn’t a rarity, given the cost of the products within. She noticed that several other shops on the street had similar security.   
“317 is it?”   
The voice was unfamiliar and Ava began to spin. It wasn’t quick enough and she felt pain scream through the back of her head. Then darkness consumed her. 

Ava flickered open her eyes. She couldn’t hear anything, just the dull throb that was echoing around her head. Her mouth was dry and she could taste blood, she must have bitten her tongue when they hit her. It took a while for her eyes to adjust.   
“Welcome back,” it was the same voice again.   
“Mr. Thompson,” she replied, her focus adjusting on the face of Edward Thompson.   
“One agent wasn’t enough of a hint for Mr. Roper? Hmm?”  
“Apparently not,” Ava replied, flexing her hands. They were bound behind her back, her legs strapped to the legs of the chair.   
“Are you going to be more cooperative than your friend?”   
“Depends what you are offering,” Ava said, flexing her hand to try and create some slack. She glanced around the room properly the first time. Apart from the chair in which she sat, and table on which Edward was perched, it was completely empty. Except for smears of blood on the floor. She could just about make out the dull murmur of men outside the door.   
“Ever wonder why your organization is trying to get in our way? Hmm? It’s not out of the goodness of their hearts. I can tell you that.”  
“People rarely do anything for good reasons,” Ava replied. “You know at least in Russia they’re a lot more open about this arms race. Makes things a lot easier.”  
“Russia? It has been a long time since you were in the game hasn’t it?” Edward smiled and rubbed his bearded chin. “Surprising that they’d put one of their best into the training program. You must have really fucked up.”  
“Something like that,” the pain in Ava’s head was screaming, along with the alarm bells that followed his sentenced. She was compromised. And if she was compromised, they all were. She glanced at her watch. It was after eleven.   
“Somewhere else you need to be?”   
“Oh, you know, tourist tour booked at the Tower of London at midday. Don’t want to be late,” she replied.   
“Sorry, I forgot, it must be strange for you to be back,” Edward paused. “Welcome home Ava.”

The blood in Ava’s ears began to pound louder. He knew everything. That wasn’t possible. She threw herself backwards, splintering the chair beneath her. She only managed to pull one wrist free before Edward began moving towards her. She threw herself towards him, body slamming him with the chair and knocking him to the ground. It wasn’t elegant, but it smashed the legs off, allowing her to free her legs. Edward was coughing, winded from the hit. Before he could sit up, Ava kicked him back to the ground, her booted foot going to his throat.   
“Who is the informant?” she snapped. He laughed. She moved the foot and kicked his jaw hard, knocking several teeth loose. “Who is it?” she kept her voice quiet.   
“Are you going to kill me?” he seemed amused by the prospect. “There’s fifty men in this building, and they all work for me. You won’t even make it off this floor.”  
“Want to bet? I can be very resourceful,” Ava returned her foot to his throat, pressing down enough to cut off his breathing. She watched as he began to struggle for breath, pulling at her foot. She loosened off slightly. “Ready to talk?”   
“Never,” he smiled. 

Ava reached over and grabbed the broken chair leg. Without pausing, she thrust it straight into his throat, pulling it out and stepping back to avoid the spurting blood that began to soak across the floor.   
“Your brother will be joining you soon,” she said, her voice emotionless. The conversation outside the room began growing louder and she looked around. There was ventilation system in the top corner but it would be a tight squeeze. Tugging at the table, she moved it quietly across and hopped up, pulling at the metal grating. Gunshots tore through the air. She froze, looking at the door that remained closed. More gunfire began and she continued, lifting herself up into the crawl space. Her shoulders barely fit but she managed to just get enough leverage. As soon as she was fully in, she began pushing with her feet, and tugging with her palms against the smooth surface. She managed to get herself along to a junction, and backed herself down a section heading towards the floor below. 

There was a slight thud as she hit the bottom, and she froze, just in case anyone heard. In the background she could hear shouting and the occasion gunshot. She had no doubt the Winter Solider was currently smashing through the building around her, killing as many as he could. Swerving to the left, Ava worked out her location and looked into the tunnel ahead of her. It took her through the flooring, potentially leaving her visible through a thick metal grate. It was a chance she would have to take. Moving as quietly as she could, she began edging through, stopping every couple of feet to look above her and check for movement. She was about two feet from the exit when something smashed down through the vent in front of her.

A metal hand.

It latched onto her leather jacket and pulled fiercely, dragging her up from the ventilation system and onto the floor. He kept her hovering off the ground for several seconds, surveying her carefully before dropping her to her feet.  
“That was…unnecessary,” she murmured, avoiding eye contact.  
“We need to go, Roper is waiting,” he sounded irritated, snappy, the tone she remembered from their missions. Maybe he didn’t remember after all.  
“My motorbike is outside,” Ava replied. “Couple of streets down.”  
“Compromised,” he replied. “We’re getting out of the area by foot, then we can find another vehicle.” He placed his metal hand around Ava’s forearm and began dragging her. “We don’t have time to wait around.”  
“You cleared the building, we need to check, there could be any amount of information lying around!” she protested. “If I can return with information on Stark’s weaponry…”  
“It has been cleared out. Along with Regan, he’s long gone,” the Asset replied. “It was all here for the taking though, before you got yourself caught.”  
“They knew I was coming. I was completely hidden on those rooftops. I took every precaution. They were expecting me.” The Soldier didn’t reply, he simply grunted. 

Together they reached street level. It was bustling with local residents and tourists. Ava stopped and looked herself up and down. Her boots were covered in blood, and her face was dusty and bruised. The Soldier began digging around in his pocket, pulling out a baseball cap.   
“Here,” he said, handing it over. “You’re not too badly injured, I was expecting worse.”   
“You didn’t rescue me. You realise that. I was getting out of there by myself and I might have managed it with more subtlety if you hadn’t waded in where you weren’t needed,” Ava pulled the hat down over her dark hair, tilted her head to hide the purple hue gathering across her cheek.  
“Not the time,” the Winter Soldier grabbed her arm and began pulling her along the street.   
“Soldat. Stop,” Ava said, and he froze. Her tone turned icy and she switched to Russian. “Remember who is in charge in this situation. Remember who you work for and who gives the orders.”  
“Roper is in charge,” he replied, turning and catching her eye.   
“I am your handler,” she said. “You do as I say.”  
“Do you want respect?” he replied. “Then you shouldn’t have left me Ava.”


	5. Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the mission compromised, Agent 317 and the Winter Soldier begin their escape...

Ava didn’t have a reply.

All she could hear was the thudding of her heartbeat in her ears and the echo of his words. She remembered him screaming, wailing in pain that final time she heard his memory being wiped. Just moments after she’d been banished to Washington to serve out her own sentence. She had no choice but to leave him. Showing attachment would have meant death, for her at least. Betraying orders would have meant death for her also. Yet still she felt nothing but guilt. 

They walked silently for some time, dodging through the crowds until the tourists started to thin out and the number of suited men tripled. They were right in the centre of the City of London now, and their casual attire clashed with those around them.   
“We need a car,” Ava said, looking down a side street. She swerved off and the Winter Soldier followed her without missing a beat. As they walked, her eyes scanned each of the cars, checking to see if any of them had been unlocked. Just over halfway down, a car making deliveries was pulled into the side of the road. Ava glanced and saw that the courier was at the service entrance of the building.  
“Quick,” the Asset was already getting into the driver’s side. Ava didn’t have time to argue about who was driving. Right now, she didn’t have the energy, or the desire to fight with the killing machine next to her. 

He drove her out of the city, keeping his gaze fixed to the road, not even sparing a single glance in her direction. As he began following the signs back to the area with the warehouse, Ava spoke up.  
“We can’t go back. It’s not safe,” she said softly. He ignored the statement, continuing to drive. Ava placed her hand on his left arm, which was resting on the gear stick. “It isn’t safe.” He carried on. “Please,” Ava started. Pulling rank was the last thing she wanted to do right now. Especially given how it had backfired last time.  
“I’m not taking us there. We are being followed. I’m losing them,” the Asset finally replied and Ava noticed his focus was on the rear-view mirror.   
“What are you plan-“ before Ava could finish, he swerved the car off down a side street. And from there he took a sharp ninety-degree turn and positioned them back onto another main road. He drove for a while before pulling into a small hamlet of houses. There they switched with another car that had been left unlocked while the owner washed it. They waited until he went to fetch the hosepipe, before hopping in and speeding off. There were more sharp swerves across lanes, a couple of U-turns and finally the Asset seemed happy that they had lost the trail. They had been driving for about three hours before he pulled over into a layby, turning off the engine.   
“There’s a safe house about an hour away, but it might be compromised,” Ava broke the silence.   
“No safe houses,” the Asset replied. “But we need to check in with Roper. He may already be tracking Regan.”  
“He could just as easily be the leak,” Ava replied.   
“It’s not Roper. I saw him clock watching when you didn’t return. He showed concern,” the Winter Soldier finally looked at her. A cold, steely look that suggested she didn’t deserve anyone’s concern. Silence fell over the car once again, until Ava took a deep breath.  
“I didn’t leave you,” she said. “I was forced to the training unit in Washington. I didn’t have a choice. My injuries…” she trailed off, watching as his jaw tensed. She had seen what he was capable of, and in such a confined space, she was regretting broaching the subject.   
“I don’t know what happened,” he replied. “I don’t remember anything. Except that when I look at you, I feel like you betrayed me. Like you left me,” he looked back out through the windscreen. Specks of rain were beginning to cover the glass.   
“We were on a mission. I got injured, you helped me,” Ava paused. “I told you I would help you remember, but I couldn’t keep my promise. And I’m sorry.”

The Soldier didn’t reply, he just turned the ignition back on and began to pull away. They drove right down to the coast, close to the ferry port across to France and as night began to draw in, the car finally came to a stop in the car park of a travel hotel.  
“My money is back at the safe house,” Ava said, looking at the bright lights of the building in front of her and craving a shower. Dried blood and dust was sticking to her skin, and her hair felt lank against her face. The Soldier reached into his pocket, pulling out a brown leather wallet, tossing it across into Ava’s lap. “I won’t ask,” she said, beginning to get out of the car. She took a look down at herself. She might have just managed to pass through London unnoticed, but walking into a hotel lobby would draw nothing but suspicion. The Soldier looked as if he was following her thought process, and stepped out of the driver’s seat. She passed the wallet across to him and waited while he went in and ordered the rooms. Thankfully with the cold and rain, his gloved hand wouldn’t attract attention. A few minutes later he began heading towards the elevator and Ava walked to meet him. She slipped in through the door and around the edge of the lobby, keeping herself as hidden as possible.

He had booked a twin room. Clearly not trusting enough to give her space for the night. He never slept at night anyway, not from what she had seen. Every mission they had been on he would sit upright on the bed for the whole night. It was distracting, and it took her a long time before she felt comfortable enough to sleep herself. Then Russia had happened and all she could think about was his hand around his throat, his grasp on her thigh, those metal fingers inside of her. She slammed the bathroom door, and the flimsy wood bounced on the hinges. She stepped into the cool water of the shower and stared at the floor as the dried blood began to wash away, wincing as the wounds began to sting. 

“Copenhagen?” The Soldier was speaking quietly, but as she dried herself, Ava could make out his voice through the door. “Confirmed,” he said, repeating the word moments later. Ava pulled on the cheap, white dressing gown that was hung on the back of the door and exited, towel drying her long hair. The Soldier didn’t move from his position, but she caught his eye in the reflection of the window. He listened to orders for another few minutes before passing the phone across to her.   
“Mr. Roper,” Ava began.  
“I’ve already been through the Mission Report. And I’m guessing whatever he told me is far more accurate than any information you would part with. I just need you to report the time between arriving in Hatton Garden to leaving. The Asset paraphrased what you had told him.”  
“I went via the rooftops, two streets down. It was clear, until they knocked me out. When I woke up Edward knew my name, my history, everything that happened before,” Ava said. “I killed him, got into the vent system and that’s when the Asset found me.”  
“Right, well the Asset has your orders. Report back in twenty-four hours with an update,” Roper didn’t sound angry, just bored, clearly frustrated at how long a simple case was taking.  
“Yes Sir,” Ava heard the line go dead and replaced the phone.   
“I’ve checked the room for recording devices,” the Asset stood up and pulled the curtains closed, before sitting back down onto his bed, turning to face her.   
“I don’t think they’re that good,” Ava said, trying to lighten the mood. The tension was getting to her. She had enough worries staying on mission, trying to avoid both getting killed and attracting the wrath of Pierce. The last thing she needed was the atmosphere with her mission partner.   
“It’s protocol,” the Soldier snapped. “You should sleep.”  
“Getting there,” Ava lay back on the bed, flicking her damp hair to one side. As she did, her robe fell slightly open, exposing her right thigh. The Soldier’s eyes were fixed to it, and she looked down to see that the angle showed off the scar she had got in Russia. Before she could say anything, he was across the gap and leaning over her, his hand on her leg, pinning it down to get a clearer look. Ava flinched at his touch.   
“This,” he said, keeping a strong grip on her leg. “What is this?”  
“The injury I got on my last mission. You sewed it up,” Ava paused, her breath hitching. “You can’t just grab my leg like that,” she said. He realised himself and softened his grip, taking his hand away.  
“Sorry,” he grunted, moving back across to his own bed. “I just, I remembered it.” Ava watched his expression, it was frustration mixed with confusion. Sometimes she wondered whether it would be easier to be like him, to remember nothing, to have all of the memories removed. All of the death, the pain, the suffering, the memories of him, of her family, of everything that was weighing down on her. But looking at the expression on his face, he had just as many demons.


	6. Pick-up Point

Ava stirred and rolled over.

It was still dark outside, the slight light of impending dawn visible outside the curtains. Silhouetted against them was the figure of the Soldier, sat upright on his bed, staring at the wall in front of him.   
“You have another hour until we have to leave,” he said, without turning to look at her. “It’s only an half hour drive to the pick-up point. A helicopter will be waiting.”  
“I’m awake now,” Ava sat up, groaning as she felt the sting in her muscles from the previous day. “Who is on the floor in Copenhagen?”  
“Barker and Ellis,” he replied. “He said Ellis was one of yours.”  
“She was one of the first I trained,” Ava said. “She’s a piece of work.” Ava remembered the vicious blonde who couldn’t throw a punch to save her life but would happily sneak up and stab someone in the back. Literally. The training process had been eye opening, seeing first hand those that volunteered to work for Hydra. Many of them were second, third generation trainees. People trying to follow in their parents’ footsteps, hoping that one day the organization would gain prominence publically and the shame of the past would be behind them. It had been awful. Ava had always assumed that the majority of Hydra’s ranks had been forced into it. Like she had, like the Asset had, like Martin.   
“Roper said she was one of the best,” the Soldier said.   
“She does what she’s told, kills who she has to kill and doesn’t ask questions,” Ava sat upright. “She’s exactly what they want.” She stood stiffly, moving to the end of her bed to check her clothes. She had rinsed them out and left them to dry. They were slightly damp but it would have to do.   
“Do you want food?” he asked. “Breakfast?”  
“No, I’m alright,” Ava said. She was starving, but she knew she couldn’t eat. She had spent the entire night pretending to sleep. In reality she had been lying there listening to the gentle breathing of the Soldier. He had a steady inhale and a strong, extended exhale, and listening to it was like hypnosis. The only interruption was the occasion gentle whir of electricity if he moved his arm. She wanted to tell him exactly what had happened the last time they worked together. She wanted to thank him for what that night had given her. A reminder that she was more than Hydra’s prisoner. She was alive. But he was no longer that man, he was a different person every time he came out of that machine and she decided that the only way she would talk about it was if he remembered more. She was broken out of her thoughts as he spoke her name again.  
“I asked if you wanted coffee,” he said, sharper, his tone almost irritated. She looked up and met his cold, blue eyes.   
“No, thank you,” Ava said, looking around the room.

A speck of light caught her eye and she spun her head. Then everything became a blur. The light hit her eyes, then she saw movement and looked down to see a red dot on her chest. Before she could move she heard the shattering of glass and then was thrown backwards, hitting the floor hard, and winding herself. She gasped, her hand going to her chest. But there was no wound. She looked up to see the Winter Soldier stood over her, his metal hand still extended where it had intercepted the bullet.   
“Get up, we need to go,” he grabbed her wrist and dragged her to her feet. In shock, Ava pulled on her jeans, and turned around to undo the dressing gown. She let it drop to the floor and quickly pulled on a bra and t-shirt. The Soldier caught a glimpse of her back. The burns, the six headed Hydra symbol. He winced as a memory shot through his head. Putting on her jacket she grabbed her rucksack and went to the door.   
“On three,” she said, holding up her fingers and motioning the numbers. After the final count she opened the door and the Soldier moved out into the corridor, his metal arm raised, looking each way.   
“Clear, come on,” they ran along the corridor and to the emergency stairs. As the door shut behind them the hotel staff began walking cautiously along the corridor towards their room. They flew down the two flights of stairs to the ground and then headed out a service exit.   
“Did you leave anything in the car?” Ava asked, looking behind them as the Solider tried to break the padlock on the gated doorway.  
“No,” he said firmly as the lock snapped. “Bike, now,” he said, motioning towards a motorbike parked outside.   
“They’re armed, I will be completely exposed,” Ava breathed.  
“We’re not going on the road,” the Soldier motion to the steep bank in front of them which led up into the undergrowth. 

Ava waited while he threw his leg over the bike and began working on the ignition. She kept watch as he used the current from his arm to hot-wire it. As soon as the engine kicked to life she jumped onto the back, one arm slipping around his waist, the other holding onto the seat. There were no helmets. She let the weight of her body fall against his back, trying to warm herself in the early morning winter chill. She had forgotten how reassuring he felt. Just two days ago he had tried to kill her, but he was the only agent of Hydra with whom she had ever felt safe. If any other agent had been in that hotel room they would have dropped to the floor and let her take the bullet. Her fear and anxiety about him had gone, replaced by gratitude. She tightened her grip as the bike began climbing the steep hill. She closed her eyes and leant forward with him. The smoky scent of his hair filled her nose. 

He took a roundabout route to the pick-up point, swerving through industrial warehouses and housing estates, ensuring that they lost anyone who could have followed them from the hotel. When they finally pulled up to the sparse section of concrete Roper had directed them to, Ava was shivering. She stood up off the bike, her teeth chattering, and skin pale.   
“Do you want this?” the Soldier tapped his tactical vest. Seemingly part of whatever serum he had been injected with meant that his body temperature remained more stable.   
“I’m fine,” Ava said, standing up tall.   
“There will be more supplies on the helicopter,” he replied, not wishing to hurt her pride any further than it already had.  
“We should have got more information about who they were, about who was shooting,” Ava said. “I will need it for the Mission Report.”  
“It was a man, approximately five foot ten, dressed entirely in black, in an unmarked Range Rover, who fled as soon as he took the shot,” the Soldier replied. He had saved her again. Twice. Just half a decade ago she had been the best agent Hydra had in their arsenal. She remembered the first time she realised it, when they no longer treated her like a cage animal, but looked at her with fear in their eyes, and shied away when she passed them in corridors. Each mission had chipped away at her, but she kept her distance from everyone. Until she was promoted to being a handler.

Initially it had been flattering to be partnered with the most expensive asset owned by Hydra, but the more missions she ran with the Winter Soldier, the more she realised how much they had in common. And he was the perfect mission partner. She could talk to him, confide in him. He wouldn’t judge her and even if secretly he had, his mind was wiped at the end of every mission. Ava realised how selfish it had been of her to use him in such a way. Especially physically. Although technically she had hardly forced him into anything, he had been acting of his own will when they had sex. 

The shudder of helicopter blades broke Ava’s concentration and she looked up as it landed on the concrete across from them. She looked back to the Soldier who was stood watching her. There was always so much sadness in his gaze.   
“Let’s go,” Ava said, swinging her rucksack over her shoulder and beginning to approach the helicopter.

She had gone from the most efficient agent to the most unreliable, and her mistakes wouldn’t have gone unnoticed. She couldn’t afford any more emotional reveries, she needed to focus, and she needed to assassinate her target and assert her place in the hierarchy. Or she’d be dead before the week was out.


	7. Safe House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agent 317 and the Asset wait for further instruction in Copenhagen.

Ava looked out the window.

Rain was battering against the pane. It hadn’t stopped since they arrived hours earlier. Barker and Ellis hadn’t been there to greet them and instead they had received a message from Roper sending them to a safe house. They were told to wait for further contact. 

The first hour they had spent looking for bugs, checking that there was no surveillance on the apartment, making sure they weren’t compromised. The second hour they sat silently, poised like feral cats, waiting to be called into action.

By the fifth hour, Ava headed down the street to an Italian to buy in pizzas for the both of them. She nibbled at her slices, nervous and tired of the waiting, while the Soldier demolished an extra large pizza in less than ten minutes. Ava pushed over the remainder of her slices.  
“Sure?” he said, eyeing them up hungrily.  
“You can really take them?” Ava smiled. “Go ahead.”  
He grabbed the box off her and began tucking in.   
“You need to eat something though,” he said. “You need to keep your energy up.”  
“I can’t eat when I’m waiting for a mission.”  
“I already know that, don’t I?” the Soldier said, furrowing his brows and concentrating.  
“Yeah, you’ve asked a few times,” Ava replied. “You remember?”   
“A flash of something,” he said, shaking it off and continuing with the pizza.   
“Has that always happened?”  
“What? Remembering you?”   
“Remembering anything,” Ava turned in her chair to look at him. “Do you remember more each time or has it been like this since the beginning?”  
“I don’t know,” he smiled wryly. “I don’t remember.” He put the pizza back down in the box, finally admitting defeat. “I don’t even know what the beginning is.”   
“That might be a good thing,” Ava said. “Remembering isn’t always the easiest option. Especially when you work for Hydra.”  
“How long have you been part of this?” he asked. Ava paused before answering. He had never asked so many questions before, felt so human.   
“Twelve years,” she replied. “They killed my family.”  
“What happened?”

Ava hadn’t spoken of her family to anyone. Ever. It had been the main reason she wished she could have her memory wiped each time, and hope that each wipe would drive them further from her thoughts. Because they were all she thought about. They were all that kept her going when she had thought so often about giving up.   
“My father worked in the British army,” she started, working out how to give him an abridged version of events. “He was in their intelligence unit. They wanted him to spy for them,” Ava took a sip of the water in front of her, her throat suddenly dry. “He refused so they came to our house. They burned it to the ground. I woke up first, I tried to save my sister, my parents, but they were already dead. When the flames reached my room they got me, so I ran, and I jumped out the window. They watched me roll around on the ground until I put the fire out. And when I stood up to face them, they laughed,” Ava frowned. “They told me I was impressive. Just for surviving, when they left usually no survivors behind. They put a gun to my head and offered me a choice. Work for them, or die.” 

Ava stood up from the table and moved across to the sofa in the window.   
“I’m sorry,” the Winter Solider looked confused. Processing any emotion other than anger still felt foreign. But lurking beneath his guilt was plenty of anger, anger that she had been put through that. That he had been put through it. “You made the right choice though, to not let them take another life that night.”  
“They took my life,” Ava replied. “Not that this is much of a life. But I just don’t want to die.”  
“You’re clearly a survivor,” the Soldier said, standing and walking across to her. “You’ve adapted. And you’ve survived.” He sat down next to her on the sofa, both of them staring out the window. The rain still beat against it relentlessly. “I don’t know how long I’ve been here.” 

Ava knew. She knew everything from his file. She knew he was enhanced. He didn’t even seem to know that himself. He believed it was only his metal arm that set him apart from others. But it was 1990, how could she tell the man in front of her that he had been doing this, been in this eternal cycle for over seventy years? He didn’t look like a man who had hope, but telling him that would certainly take away any that might still lurk in his veins.  
“I don’t know either,” Ava said. “But you’re safe. Know that. You have more power than you think you do.”  
“I’m bound to the words of my handler. I’m guessing none of the others are like you,” he replied, shifting in his seat to look at her.   
“You’re smart,” Ava’s gaze reached his. “You can work ways around it, you are only bound by what they tell you to do and what they tell you not to do. Find loopholes, find ways around it.”  
“You’re actively encouraging me to go against orders? As my handler?” the edges of the Soldier’s mouth twitched.   
“Well, in reason.”  
“Even though I could kill you,” his voice fell deep, and his gaze turned steely. Ava wanted to smile, but something about the change in atmosphere told her it was a bad idea. “I could kill you right here, with my bare hands,” he raised his metal arm. “With one hand.” Ava stood up.  
“What are you doing?” she said. Her hand hovered above the knife holstered at her hip. In seconds the Winter Soldier was on his feet, across the small gap, and had removed the knife and thrown it across the room. He pushed his weight up against her and forced her against the wall. Ava took a deep breath, trying to avoid the intense blue eyes that were boring into her.   
“You said to find loopholes,” he smirked, darkness still lacing his tone.  
“Do not kill-“ before Ava could finish her sentence, the Soldier’s metal arm was at her throat, squeezing. She grasped at it with her hands, tugging and scrabbling for leverage to pull it away. Just as she really started to panic he released, and she fell limp against the wall, panting to regain composure.  
“I’m not going to kill you,” he said. “I shouldn’t have done that. I just want to touch you. Every time you’re close by. There’s something that makes me want to touch all of you,” he was so close she could feel his breath on her cheek. “I get flashes, of you, on top of me, my hands on you… I can’t get them out of my head.”   
“Four years ago,” Ava said, remembering. “My last mission-“ he cut her off for a second time. His mouth crashed into hers, pressing his entire body flush to hers against the wall. She responded fiercely, all sense flying out the window as his teeth bit down on her lip hard enough to draw blood. His flesh hand went to her hair, tugging her head back and exposing her throat. He continued his attack on her neck, and Ava moaned, her heartbeat thudding louder than the rain in her ears. 

Ava let her hands travel up his back, one hooking over his shoulder, the other coming to rest at the base of his neck. He returned to her lips and she felt his rough stubble tearing at the soft skin of her cheeks. He pulled away, keeping his forehead against hers.   
“You can tell me to stop,” he said. “Anytime.” Ava didn’t reply, she just kissed him again, leaning into his hard body. He pulled his metal hand away from her, and reached for the buckle of her trousers. He slipped it beneath the waistband and underneath her underwear. She shivered against him, feeling as the cool metal dipped towards her core. His thumb settled on her clit while one of his fingers moved inside her. She bucked against his hand, her head falling back against the wall, her gaze settling on him. He stayed silent and just watched as she reacted to his touch. 

He added a second finger, and she keened, her hips rocking into his hand. He pushed himself against her harder, the stiff bulge in his trousers pressing against her hip. “Oh my God,” she said, trying to find purchase against the wall with one hand, the other still gripping tightly to his shoulder. “Harder,” she groaned. He complied, rocking his hand and his hips fasted, increasing the friction against her. A third finger slipped inside and he crooked them, working them quickly in and out of her. It didn’t take long until she fell apart against him, her weight falling into his arms. She stifled her cries by burying her face into his shoulder. 

Her hands went to his trousers to return the favour, one hand pulling down the zip while the other cupped his bulge. She kissed him again, and he moaned into her mouth at the contact. She began tugging down his trousers, when a loud beeping interrupted her. 

They both froze. Then slowly turned to look at the wall-mounted phone that was ringing loudly.  
“Shit,” Ava exclaimed. She pulled away from the Soldier and began buttoning up her trousers as she reached for the phone. “Hello?” she held it against her ear. “Five minutes. Got it. Hail Hydra.” She slammed the phone down. “We have to go.”


	8. New Base

Ava opened the door.

The rain blasted against her, but she kept her stride strong, heading for the 4x4 pulled into the curb. She heard heavy boots on the sidewalk behind her, confirming that the Soldier had fallen in step. She didn’t turn to look at him, just walked around the other side of the car and hopped in the back seat.  
“476,” Ava looked at the woman in the passenger seat in front of her. “266,” and then across to the driver.   
“317,” 476, or Ellis, Ava’s former pupil, fixed a smug smile onto Ava as the Asset slipped into the other back seat, throwing their rucksacks into the centre. Ellis’ eyes move to scan him. “You’ve moved up in the world from training Hydra babies to working with the Winter Soldier.”   
“Seat belt,” Barker said, looking in the rearview mirror at Ava. She pulled it across her.   
“Are we expecting to be rammed off the road?” there was a hint of sarcasm in Ava’s tone.   
“There’s enough people trying to kill you,” Ellis laughed, falsely. “We’ve not met, but I’m a big fan,” she looked at the Winter Soldier. He returned her gaze but stayed silent. “You forbid him from talking 317?”  
“No, she hasn’t,” he replied, turning to look out the window.   
“What is the latest?” Ava said.   
“Regan Thompson was sighted arriving at an apartment block on the outskirts of the city about three hours ago. They’ve been tracking him since and he hasn’t moved.”   
“Can we go straight in?”  
“If only,” Ellis replied. “I spoke to Pierce just before we left to come and collect you. They think the reason Regan has come to Copenhagen is because he and Howard Stark have a weapons compound hidden somewhere in the city.”  
“So you’re telling me this is now a weapons grab?” Ava said, rolling her eyes.   
“Essentially,” Ellis said, smiling. “What, below your station?”  
“No,” Ava snapped back. “Just time consuming, high intensity and usually ends up with high casualty rates.”  
“All of those things sound good to me,” Ellis replied.  
“Whatever happens, once we’re done, Regan is my kill,” Ava said. 

The rest of the car journey they stayed silent. Ava was getting agitated. The last twenty-four hours had felt like a lifetime of waiting around, bouncing from safe houses to transport and back again. She shifted in her seat, feeling the bruises left from her encounter with the other Thompson brother. That’s what she told herself was leaving her agitated anyway. In reality her mind couldn’t get away from the fact that just two hours before she had been pinned against the wall while the killing machine now sat next to her had brought her to orgasm. 

He hadn’t made eye contact with her since they got in the car. He simply stared out the window. She wondered what was going on in his mind, curious as to how he saw the world. Did everything look familiar, or hazy? Did the flashes of memory happen a lot? Was he passing trees and trails and being reminded of his childhood? She was snapped back to reality as the car came to an abrupt halt. Another warehouse leading into a breezeblock complex. Perfect.  
“Centre of operations?” Ava said, looking at the doorway that was flanked by two guards.  
“Yes,” Barker spoke up. “I forget, we’ve only been here three years, you won’t have seen it.”  
“Unsubtle security,” Ava replied, stepping out of the car. The cold air hit her sharply and she pulled her coat around her. The Solider came to stand beside her, waiting for her to make the first move. Ava took another look around and began trailing after Barker and Ellis into the warehouse. 

The outside betrayed how advanced the base actually was. Computers lined the walls, whirring and bleeping, each manned by a Hydra operator, dressed in smart uniforms and focused on the screen in front of them.  
“Main communications,” Ellis said, bored, leading them through to a narrow corridor. “Interrogation cells,” she said, pointing to some barred doors on their left. “The crew mess hall is down the end to the left.”   
“I’m going to check in,” Barker said abruptly, peeling off down another corridor.   
“Carver is in charge here, Roper handed over to him earlier,” Ellis said, turning up a flight of metal stairs. “Have you worked with him?”   
“Once, when I was based in Serbia,” Ava replied. She remembered a cruel man with a rude manner and patronising tone. They continued up to the third floor, which suddenly became less clinical. The metal was replaced with painted brickwork and the metal floor with linoleum.   
“Your quarters are here,” she opened a door on the left. Ava glanced in and saw what was essentially a one-bed apartment, sparse and bare. “Soldat, you’re opposite,” she didn’t even look the Soldier in the eye. “Roper insisted we put you both in Officers’ quarters.” Her tone betrayed her feelings on the matter.   
“Good, given I currently rank second in command at the base,” Ava said, bristling at the tone with which her former student addressed her.  
“You might be,” her eyes scanned across to the Asset.   
“He goes where I go. I’m his handler,” Ava replied. “You can return to your duties, I trust that Barker will update us as soon as he hears on Thompson’s movements.”  
“He will, there’s a telephone extension in there,” Ellis turned on heel and disappeared. 

The Soldier glanced at his own door. He opened it, and closed it again straight away, before walking into Ava’s room. She followed him inside and closed the door behind them.  
“You trust that this isn’t a trap?” he spoke up for the first time in hours, but kept his voice low.  
“Something is going on, but if they wanted to kill us they would have done it already. They’re planning something, but whatever it is, they’re not ready.” Ava leaned across and turned the lock on the door. She walked over and slumped on the sofa. “All this waiting, all this moving around for one man with Stark connections? It’s got to be bigger.”  
“You think they want to kill Stark?” he replied.  
“I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s coming, someway down the line,” Ava said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Right now he must have something they want. It has to be him. Thompson is a small fish, they would have flattened the apartment block by now if it was him.”  
“I’m more concerned about whoever is trying to flatten us,” the Soldier sat down next to her.   
“Worried about me?” Ava whispered, a smile crossing her lips.  
“You?” he replied. “I’m worth far more to Hydra.”   
“Is that a hint of sarcasm I detect?”  
“Perhaps,” he said. “How long do you think this update will take? They don’t seem to be overly concerned with timings.”   
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Ava said.  
“Then we should be quick,” he said sternly.  
“What do you-“ before Ava could finish her sentence, she felt the Soldier’s hands roughly grabbing at her waist and hips. His movements were frantic, and he quickly flipped her over onto her knees, before pushing his weight against her, bending her top half over the edge of the sofa arm. He pressed his body into her, covering her back with his chest. He writhed against her, his nose rubbing against her hair, his pants growing tighter against her ass. She could feel his breath against her ear. Tilting her head she put her lips to the side of his face, kissing his stubble before leaning back further so she was near his ear.  
“This room has to be bugged,” she whispered, as soft as she could.   
“Then you better keep quiet,” he replied, just as quiet, the bass of his voice rumbling in her ears. 

Ava groaned as she felt his erection press against her, rolling up across her ass and shoving her harder against the arm of the sofa. His arms snaked around her waist, reaching for the button on her pants. He lowered the zip and metal fingers slipped to her core, settling where they had hours earlier. He groaned, sensing how wet she was. Ava bit down on her lip, tearing through the skin as he tugged, pulling the tactical pants down just below her ass and pushing her head further down to lever her bottom half up. She braced herself in the exposed position as his fingers pulled back from her clit, and heard him fumbling with his own clothes. She jumped as his hand hit her ass in a sharp slap. Her back arched involuntary.   
“Shhh,” she said quietly, beginning to lift her head. Before she could raise it, his hand was on her hair, pushing her back down. He lined himself up at her entrance and pushed in to the hilt. She buried her face in the soft upholstery of the couch to stifle a cry. He rolled his hips once, before pulling out quickly and thrusting back in. His pace was frantic, the only noise coming from the scuff of their combat pants against each other. His metal arm squeezed at her ass cheek roughly, digging in enough to leave bruises. He let his chest fall flush with her back, somehow making the rough act feel more intimate. 

Ava screwed her eyes shut, her breathing growing ragged and uneven. The position he had her in pinned her crotch against the couch, meaning that with every thrust of his hips, the zipper of her pants dragged against her clit, causing almost unbearable friction.   
“Oh…my…god,” she said, barely louder than her breathing, her hand digging into the material beneath it, turning her knuckles white. Just when she thought he was on the edge of finishing, he sped up. The change in pace caught her off guard and pushed Ava over the edge, she went limp, crying out silently as he carried her over the edge for the second time that day, the intensity verging on pain. Feeling her clench around him brought him to climax, and he grunted quietly, letting out a long exhale of relief and allowing his weight to fall onto her back. She could feel the rapid pounding in his chest against her shoulder blades. 

After a few moments he sat back, dragging Ava back up from her position draped over the arm and leaning close into her ear again.  
“That’s all I was thinking about for the entire journey,” he nipped at her neck before standing up and re-buttoning his combats.


	9. Arms Race Part 1

Ava raised the gun and fired.

The bullet tore through the target in front of her. She shot again, and again, each time hitting within the central circle. She lowered the gun and pulled off the headphones, turning to put the handgun down on the table. Ava’s eyes scanned the guns in front of her, lifting up an automatic pistol and loading it. Just as she moved to clip the earphones back over her head she saw a flash of movement behind her.  
“Bright and early,” Ellis’ drawl broke the silence. Ava didn’t make a habit of training this early, at least she hadn’t since she was a lot more Junior, but once the Soldier had returned to his own room the night before, sleep hadn’t come easy. “Not that I expected anything else from the legendary 317.”  
“Been a while since I’ve had the chance to get the range to myself,” Ava turned back towards the target which had been replaced with a fresh sheet.   
“Lane two!” Ellis called out, and whoever was operating the switches flicked down a second target. Ava ignored her, slipping the headphones back down over her eats and firing six shots straight into the target. As she finished, another six shots came from beside her as Ellis took her turn. Ava’s eyes scanned the gap between the targets, letting out a breath of relief as she saw the scattering of holes across Ellis’ paper. “Warm up,” Ellis said, watching as a clean target dropped down. She didn’t pause but unloaded another clip into the paper. This time only five bullets hit the target, the sixth embedding itself in the wall behind which was already peppered with holes.   
“You’re firing on your inhale, wait for the exhale,” Ava replied, firing again and hitting with the same accuracy as before.   
“We can’t all hit a target while hanging off the back of a moving motorcycle,” Ellis said. “Is that even true?”  
“It’s true,” a deep voice came from behind and they both spun, guns in hand to face the Winter Soldier.  
“Creeping up on people in a shooting range. That’s a great idea,” Ellis snapped.   
“They located Regan?” Ava asked.  
“He’s not moving, but two of his men are. It’s worth tracking.”  
“We should go,” Ellis looked at Ava. “I can come with-“  
“No, we have assigned partners,” Ava cut over her. “I’m not breaching protocol because you feel like you need to prove you’re a better agent than I am,” she said. “You and Barker keep an eye out for movement from the Stark camp.” Ava walked out of the range, the Soldier hot on her heels. Just as the door closed she heard Ellis’ quiet reply.  
“Bitch.”

“No love lost between you two then,” the Soldier smirked as he opened the door to a 4x4 they’d been given and hopped in.  
“She hasn’t changed a bit.”  
“And I bet you haven’t either,” he replied.   
“I don’t need to deal with bullshit from some jumped-up, entitled little shit like-“ The Soldier slammed the door to cut off Ava’s sentence.   
“Clearly,” he said, shooting her an amused look as she got into the driver’s seat.

It had been three hours and Ava smashed her hands angrily into the steering wheel.   
“Subtle,” the soldier remarked from the passenger seat, his eyes still focused on the targets. They had been parked in a lot across from a shabby restaurant for nearly two hours. After a bit of tracking through the maze-like streets of Copenhagen, their marks had finally stopped. And apparently were taking their time with lunch. The battered Renault they were driving was still parked outside and their heads were just about visible through the mucky front window of the establishment.   
“If they don’t move soon, we’re going in there. I’m starving,” Ava grumbled. “If these guys are involved with the shipment and transfer of weapons, they definitely aren’t taking it seriously.”  
“A job is a job, eventually it’s going to feel as mundane as the next thing,” the Solider spoke up. “I imagine anyway. I don’t exactly have much memory of whatever I did before this.” He screwed his eyes up, noticing as the figures behind the glass began to shift. “Probably a good thing I imagine.”  
“Probably,” Ava said, her attention on the moving marks rather than the conversation. They both fell into silence as the two men left the restaurant, moving towards the car. One of them had spilled something down his grey t-shirt and the other was picking something from his teeth. These were hardly the finest criminals that Ava had come across.  
“What are you planning?” The soldier spoke up and Ava realised that his attention was now focused on her.  
“Where did you get the intel on these two?”   
“You think they’ve sent us on a wild goose chase?” he replied.  
“Crossed my mind,” Ava said, gritting her teeth.   
“I checked the details, don’t worry, she’s not going to get one up on us,” the edges of his mouth threatened to twist into a smile.  
“Nice to know you’re on side,” Ava said. “Right, let’s go.” As she turned the ignition on, the taller of the two men looked over the roof of his car, directly at them. Before Ava had time to move her gaze, the soldier had taken her chin in his hand, spun her face and fixed his lips to hers. Ava leaned into the kiss, her hand going to his neck.   
“Okay, we can go Soldat,” she whispered, pulling away and watching as the Renault took a turn from the side street onto a main road. “Good reflexes.”  
“You think you can keep enough distance? They saw your face.”  
“Four car lead, it’ll be fine,” Ava said, shrugging off the warmth that had flooded her body. “Where do you learn that move? Some dodgy Russian mission from the sixties?”  
“I’d like to think so,” the asset turned and smiled at her. 

They trailed the car for another hour. It drove out of the city and begun to take longer, emptier roads, making their job of tracing that bit more difficult. Calling in from a radio, Ava arranged a vehicle swap, just to help maintain some form of camouflage. Sitting behind the wheel she tucked her dark mane up into the furry hood of her jacket, and handed the solider a band so he could tie back his own shoulder-length hair. Night was beginning to draw in when Ava realised the direction they were heading. They had been tracing the coastline north, but now the car ahead was beginning to track towards the waterside.   
“It’s got to be some docklands or something, they’re about to run out of road,” Ava said, her eyes squinting in the darkness.  
“You sure you don’t want me to drive? Just for a bit?”   
“I’m good. If this turns nasty, it’s better to have you rested than tired,” Ava replied.  
“Are you just looking for excuses for me to save you?” he said, his bright blue eyes twinkling. The longer he was out of cryo, the more his personality seemed to be returning. Ava had never seen him as relaxed as he currently looked. There was nothing left of the dead-eyed figure that had attacked her in the London warehouse just days earlier.   
“Is that really how you’re going to address your Senior officer, Soldat?” Ava switched to Russian. A look of sadness crossed his face. “I’m sorry,” Ava said quickly, regretting the choice.  
“No,” he replied in Russian. “I remember you speaking Russian, I remember how beautiful it sounds.” Ava smiled and returned her attention to the road. They were coming up towards a fishing village. The car ahead of them pulled up on the side of the street next to the brick wall that separated the pavement from the sea. Ava turned abruptly up a side street.  
“We need to go on foot from here,” she said in Russian, turning off the headlights. As she stepped out of the car, she stretched her long limbs that had grown stiff from the driving. The Soldier walked around to pop the trunk.   
“Which gun?”  
“Side arms only,” Ava said, looking around. It was a sleepy, quiet village, she doubted there was going to be much counter fire to deal with.   
“Got it,” he slammed the boot down again. 

They quietly walked down a gravel path that tracked behind the line of old fishermen’s cottages, heading downwards on the slope towards the water. As they reached the end, Ava peered out to look at the parked car. The men were still stood by it, both hidden from view by the boot of the car.   
“What are they unloading?” the soldier asked, unable to see around Ava.  
“There’s two canisters,” she leaned slightly further out. “Oh you’re fucking kidding me.”  
“What?” Ava stepped back to let the Soldier step around her.   
“Wetsuits,” she snapped. “Regan and Stark aren’t stupid. It’s under fucking water.”


	10. Arms Race Part 2

The gentle rhythm thudded in Ava’s ears.

She was sprawled on the backseat of the car, her head resting on the chest of the Winter Soldier, trying to find some solace from the freezing air outside. They had put in a call back to base earlier to inform them about the development. Ellis said they were sending out one of the technical vans to survey the area. They’d bring scuba equipment with them and sonar to check what Stark had built beneath the water. It meant more waiting, but at least Ava felt like they were finally getting somewhere. With every step forward the case took, the further she felt she was from getting a bullet in the brain.

As long as the details of her relationship with the Asset remained a secret of course.

She stirred slightly and his hand went to her back, lighting tracing a circle across the back of her jacket.  
“Did I wake you?” he whispered.  
“I wasn’t asleep,” she replied, moving her chin to look at him. “It’s too cold.” She moved as if trying to sit up, and his grip on her tightened, holding her close.  
“I miss this,” he said. “This closeness. I don’t even know how long it’s been, but I know I miss it.”  
“All those memories of being a playboy coming back all of a sudden?” Ava smiled and saw as the corners of his mouth began to turn up. His face was only gently lit by the moonlight, but he looked more serene than she’d ever seen him.  
“Only memories of you,” he kissed the top of her head.  
“Wow, that’s a line you’ve used before,” Ava started laughing.   
“Prove it,” he said, slipping his cold, metal hand under the waistband of her coat and onto her bare back. Ava jumped back, sitting up against the car door.  
“Unnecessary!” she snapped, shivering.   
“Couldn’t resist,” he said smugly, pulling his legs back across and sitting up. “Clearly I was an irritating playboy. Irritating playboy to mindless assassin. Who’d have thought?” His gaze darkened. “Or maybe I was always a killer.”

Ava slipped her hand into his and squeezed.   
“We’re doing what we need to survive. All of this. It’s all about surviving. We don’t know where this is going to lead us-“ a flash of bright lights made them both wince. The headlights of the approaching van flashed a few times before turning off. “Don’t let them win.” Ava said softly, letting go of his hand and getting out. She walked around to the back doors just as they swung open. 

The technician barely looked eighteen. He was short and skinny, with thick glasses perched at the bottom of his nose. When he spoke, a strong German accent cut through his English.  
“317?” he said and Ava nodded. “The Asset?”  
“He’s in the car,” she said, hopping up into the truck next to him. The bulky computer screens were already up and running and Ava looked over to nod to the driver who was sat silently behind the wheel.   
“And it’s this body of water over here?”   
“Two divers went down about three and a half hours ago. Nobody has surfaced, and given the temperature of the water and the suits they were wearing, I’m guessing it can’t be far out. They must have an airlock for access.”  
“Okay, give me a few minutes, the diving equipment is behind you,” the technician motioned to the storage space behind the seat she had perched on.   
“I’m going to take them back to the car,” she hopped up and grabbed a tank with each hand, feeling her arm muscles strain with fatigue as she lifted them.

When she jumped down from the van she saw the Soldier had got out of the car and was stood leaning against it, one of his hands hovering over his gun.  
“Everything alright?” He nodded in reply.   
“What’s happening in there?” he motioned towards the van.  
“They’re running a sonar scan of the harbor.” Ava said, leaning next to the car beside him. His gaze travelled to the ground and he looked uncomfortable.   
“Forget everything I said earlier,” he said. “All of it. That’s not me anymore.” He shook his head and stepped forward, walking off towards the edge of the street. Ava watched him go until her attention was caught by the technician calling her back.

The image on the sonar couldn’t be more obvious. There was definitely something underneath the harbor. And it was massive.   
“Is it a fixed facility?” Ava asked. “Can you tell?”  
“I highly doubt it,” the technician pulled a large folder off his desk and thrust it towards Ava. “I grabbed that before I left the headquarters. That’s a military plan of the area. If they’d built something permanent it should be on that. So it’s either a submarine, or it’s something that even the military don’t know about.”  
“Right, and what is the distance on that?”   
“Not far, it’s a couple of hundred yards out, and about fifteen meters down,” the kid looked impressed with himself, and Ava couldn’t deny him the praise.  
“This is good information. Thank you,” she flicked through the folder. “Dawn will break in less than an hour, I want to try and get down there before it gets too bright. You guys can head back to base, get some sleep.”  
“Sure you don’t want us to stay a few hours?”  
“More conspicuous with more people around,” Ava replied. She shook the young agent’s hand and hopped out the van again, slamming the door behind her. The Soldier was hovering by the edge of the water. 

Ava motioned down to the tanks and scuba gear that was boxed up by the car.   
“We need to suit up,” she said, more formally than she intended to. Where they parked was secluded enough so she kicked off her boots and dropped her trousers. She noticed the Soldier lingering around the other side of the car, giving her some privacy. Once her legs were in the wetsuit she walked around and thrust his at him. “Come on, we need to be quick.” He nodded, starting to unbuckle his belt. Ava turned her back as she slipped off her jacket quickly, pulling off her top and pushing her arms into the wetsuit as soon as possible. He watched as goosebumps spread across her bare shoulders, right up to the point where her pale skin met the edges of the burn that marked her. Ava’s arm twisted behind her, trying to catch the cord to pull the zip. The Soldier stepped forward, pulling it up for her, his hands lingering at the base of her neck a second longer than they needed to.  
“Thank you,” she said, turning around to face him as he finished pulling on his own suit. She returned the favor, her hands ghosting his strong shoulder blades.   
“You think these will do much against the cold?” he said, looking at the water.   
“These suits are top of the line, I hope,” Ava said, tugging on the gloves that came as part of it, and pulling the straps of the tank up onto her shoulders. “Have you used one before?”  
“A long time ago,” he replied, bringing the mouthpiece up and breathing through it as a tester. He coughed at the strange feeling, but nodded, checking the equipment. Ava walked across to the harbor wall, sitting down and pulling on her mask. “Ready?”  
“Ready,” he said, taking a seat beside her. They both kicked off, flipping backwards into the water. 

It felt like hitting a wall of ice. Ava felt her whole body tense as the chill hit her. Even her mind struggled work and it took longer than it should before she remembered she could breath through the mouthpiece. She gasped into it and a stream of bubbles escaped. As they cleared she saw the Asset opposite her, swimming to her side. He held his hands up in the ‘okay’ symbol and she returned it. Visibility was terrible, it was dark and murky and so they both set off swimming in the general direction that the sonar had shown the structure. 

Ava felt like she may as well have been in space, surrounded by darkness, the cold beginning to wear off as her body got used to it. After what felt like a lifetime of swimming, a dark shadow began to form in the distance of the harbor. It was a submarine. Bigger than anything she’d seen. It looked more like a giant underwater hanger. It was entirely black metal, with no source of light coming off it, not even safety beacons. Ava noticed a lighter panel towards the aft which must have been the airlock. She pointed up. 

When Ava and the Soldier broke the surface, she tugged off the mask, looking back towards the shore. They’d travelled further than she thought. They were almost in reach of the current.   
“You think we should give the airlock a go?” he asked.  
“It’s a risk, they’re bound to have armed guards the other side, and we have no way of telling how many men are on board.”  
“You think we need back up?”   
“We’re not calling back up,” Ava said, treading water and slicing her arms back and forth to keep warm.   
“Airlock it is. On three. One, two-“ a surge of air from beneath them lurched both Ava and the Asset forward, churning them up as the water began to swell beneath them.  
“It’s surfacing,” Ava said, the blood draining from her face.  
“You think they know we’re here?” he replied. Ava didn’t know how to reply. Given the darkness down there, there’s no way they could know. And in the cold water even heat recognition would have been thrown out. They must be surfacing for another reason.  
“We need to be on top of that thing when it comes out the water.”   
“You’re insane,” he said, shaking his head. “We’ll be like fish flopping on the deck.”  
“It’s our only chance to get on board,” Ava shouted. Their voices were being drowned out as the water began bubbling more violently. “Unless you have a better idea?” Ava didn’t wait for a reply, her mask was back on and she had slipped beneath the water once more. The Asset followed quickly, straining to see through the white bubbles that were coming off the swell. He could see Ava slightly ahead of him, and then beneath her he saw the monstrous submarine emerging. 

Ava stopped in the water. It was rising at a fast speed, trying to catch onto it was still going to feel like getting hit by a car. Her eyes scanned the metal exterior, looking for any way of clinging on. On the opposite side to the airlock was another smaller hatch that appeared to be sealed. But beneath it was a slim ladder with several rungs. She pointed at it and the Solider nodded. They began to swim towards it, trying to judge where they needed to be as the dark shadow continued to creep towards them.

In place, they both braced themselves, waiting for the right moment. The churn of the water got more intense and Ava flinched as pain shot through her ears as they popped under the pressure. Her eyes snapped back open as the submarine reached them. Her arms moved to grab the ladder, but it was moving too quickly. She felt pain surge through her hand and instinctively pulled it back to her. Before she could process what had happened she felt the Soldier’s human hand grab at the scruff of her neck. He caught a handful of hair with it, but the pain of the hair being torn from her scalp was nothing compared to her hand, which she cradled uselessly to her chest. She looked up to see that his metal hand was gripped around the ladder tightly, keeping them steady as they ascended.

As they emerged, Ava felt her body sag as the support of the water disappeared. She tugged the aqualung from her mouth with her good hand and then helped the Soldier remove his.  
“What happened?” he shouted.   
“I don’t know, my hand,” Ava replied. She hadn’t moved it, she was too scared of how much damage she had caused. She refused to be stopped. She wouldn’t go back to the Training Academy. Whatever it was, it wouldn’t slow her down.

After what felt like a lifetime the submarine came to settle on the surface.   
“Up the ladder,” the Soldier said. “Look,” he motioned over the horizon. The sun was rising but visible on the water in front of the spectacle were several black, military speedboats. They scrambled up the ladder, Ava moved tentatively and one-handed, but eventually made it to the top, where they lay down to shroud themselves on the surface of the sub. The speedboats continued their journey, pulling up alongside the airlock. The soldiers on board didn’t move, just sat still awaiting orders. The airlock began to whirl as the pressure from inside was equalized. Ava shuffled closer to the edge, trying to get a better look while still keeping herself hidden. 

The panel slid away and a metal sheet came out, creating a gangplank down to the speedboats. A couple of crew in dark clothing began unloading crates, before returning to the submarine. A weapons drop. There was no more movement for several minutes until a man started walking down towards the boats. He stopped and lingered on the gangplank, turning to talk to someone still stood in the doorway of the submarine. The wind caught him from behind and he turned his head, exposing his face.   
“That’s not Regan, or Stark,” the Asset said quietly, his lips not far from Ava’s ears. She didn’t reply, her gaze frozen on the man below. “Do you recognise him from the file?” Again she didn’t answer. “Ava?”  
“I know who it is,” she said, pulling back from the edge. “We need to get out of here. Now.”

The Solider had tried to get Ava to explain more, but she was on a mission and had dived off the other end of the submarine before he had chance, pushing one-handed against the water. It had taken them about an hour to get back to the shore, landing on a beach about half a mile up the coast from where they’d left the car. Ava winced as she crawled up onto the shingle.   
“Who is it?” he spoke first when they arrived back on land.   
“Not here,” Ava had replied.

He had returned and got the car, bringing clean, warm clothes back to the beach, and hired one of the small fishing lodges across the road. The man informed him several times that it was out of season, and looked questioningly at the wetsuit. The Soldier spun some story about them being there for the marine life. He wasn’t sure if it was believed, but the old Danish man seemed happy enough when a pile of notes were thrust into his hand. He assured the Asset that there was heating and hot water in the lodge. It was worth all the money they had. 

Ava was still sat on the beach, her lips blue and teeth chattering when he returned to her. He helped her to the cabin, just down the beach, and slammed the door behind him, feeling the rush of heat from the large gas heater.   
“What was that about?” he didn’t mean to sound as stern as he did, but he wanted answers.  
“That man,” Ava said, fighting back tears. “That was my Uncle.”

The last time Ava had seen her Uncle was the night their house had burned down. He had been to visit her father and stayed for dinner. He had been British military intelligence, just as her father had been. He must have moved up through the ranks significantly in the years since the massacre, he’d only been reconnaissance when she was a child. In the early years at Hydra she used to lie in bed, dreaming that one day he’d burst in through the door and rescue her. He must have known her body wasn’t in the building. He must have known she was still alive. But he never came.

The Soldier knew better than to ask more questions at that time.  
“I need to look at your hand,” he said, motioned to the gloved appendage that Ava still had curled against her. She slowly moved it, wincing and stretching it out.   
“Let me take the glove off,” she said, tentatively pulling at the waterproof material. She shouted out as it got to the knuckle and ripped the rest off in one motion. Her middle and ring finger were badly dislocated. They’d already started to go black. The only blessing was that the cold had stopped some of the swelling.   
“I’ve got to reset them,” he said, ushering her over to him. He slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her close to him to keep her steady. She was trembling through the wetsuit.   
“Just do it,” she said, resting her face against his shoulder and bracing herself.   
“Bite down,” he said. She looked at him before biting down into his shoulder. The pain tore through her like a knife as he snapped them back into place and she felt him flinch as her teeth cut down into his shoulder. “And breathe,” he said, pulling back. “I’ll find something to splint them with.”

He opened the door to the bathroom.   
“In the meantime, you need to warm up,” he said, motioning to the shower. Ava didn’t need to be told twice, she walked through, turned on the stream of hot water and ripped off her wetsuit without even shutting the door. The Soldier watched as her pale body slipped into the cubicle and disappeared into the steam. He began to look through the cabinets, working out if any food had been left by previous tenants or if there were any first aid kits lying about. 

Ava stared at the wall in front of her as the water streamed off her. Everything was making sense. Why, after so many years of exile, Pierce had been so determined that she serve on this mission. Why, even after her cover was blown in London, Roper had transferred her to Copenhagen and not replaced her. They knew. They all knew her Uncle was involved. They were using her to get to him. She used her good hand to punch the tiles. Not full power, but enough to be satisfying. A few spots of blood washed down into the drain. 

She turned the shower off and stepped out, wrapping a towel around her. Without stopping she walked out and straight for the Soldier. He spun as she hit him, her hands going to his shoulders, her lips violently smashing against his. The towel fell away and his hands instinctively went around her naked waist. She put pressure down onto his shoulder, forcing him down. He let her lead him onto the floor, where she crawled over him, straddling his waist. 

In seconds she had practically torn the wetsuit from him, grinding her warm, wet body against his. He felt himself harden, groaning into her touch. She didn’t say anything, continuing to kiss him, clashing her teeth against his before dragging them firmly across his lip. She lowered herself onto him and as he felt her warmth engulf him he moaned harder into her mouth. He was tempted to flip them over, but he let her lead, let her take complete charge of him.

Ava rolled her hips quickly, setting a relentless rhythm, her hands braced on his chest, her head tilting up. The Soldier let his metal hand trace her breasts, circling her nipples before slipping up to her neck. Her grabbed her chin roughly, forcing her to look at him. As they made eye contact her energy faltered. His hands went to her waist and he took over, thrusting up into her, maintaining her speed. He wasn’t going to last long but he could feel her losing control on top of him. She started moving again, meeting his thrusts with her own and then let out a silent groan as she shuddered on top of him. He thrust a couple more times, until he felt himself coming inside her. He continued to roll his hips through his orgasm, but slowly drew her closer, laying back onto the wooden floor and pulling her down on top of him, resting her head on his chest.   
“We’re going to work all this out. Together. I promise,” he said, kissing the top of her head.


End file.
